


Where the Sun meets the Moon

by HammCheddr



Category: South Park
Genre: Child Neglect, Fluff, Gay, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 13:29:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13614336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HammCheddr/pseuds/HammCheddr
Summary: It all started when Tweek said Craig had sexually assaulted him when they were younger. Neither boy knew what that was, actually.Thanks to Tweek, Craig's life went into a downwards spiral. Nobody liked him, not even his parents. Tweek, on the other hand, soon became popular. People assumed all of his twitches and such were because of Craig.Two boys, both growing up with their own troubles, reunite after all those years. When one of them seems more broken than the other ever imagined, is it too late to save him?





	Where the Sun meets the Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Hi! It's Hamm, once again changing fandoms. As most of you know, I usually don't write long one-chaptered stories. This is my first one, and, let me tell you, it may be one of the best things I've written. This is the first time writing with these characters, and they're prolly a little ooc, but its fine !! All good!! 
> 
> Anyway,
> 
> I worked real hard on this. I needed to vent, so this was the outcome. Read the tags, please, because shit gets real. I may also write a follow-up fic for this, but I'm not sure yet !!

The sun chased the moon in the morning. At night, the moon chased the sun. Two lovers, both couldn’t be more different, followed each other in an endless road to finally meet. When they did, the sun’s warm excited fingers would dance against the moon’s cold, rough ones that had broken after years of trying to keep up with the sun’s carefree pace. While the sun had the days to prance and gallop throughout, the moon spent night after cold night, digging their muddied hands against the night sky in hope to finally meet their one true warmth in light. 

 

Tweek Tweak stood at an astounding 6’2’’, counting his frizzy hair he was two inches taller. Kids in school often stared in awe at his tall stature. It seemed like yesterday he was still one of the shortest kids in the class, twitching and fidgeting every second he wasn’t screaming about how it was ‘too much pressure’. He had grown out of that after his dad was arrested for things his mother had not dared to mention.

 

Nevertheless, Tweek had grown rather popular if he did say so himself. As a junior, he was pretty high up when it came to the school’s ‘feudal system’ that had unspokenly been established over the years. Plus, he’d been called attractive by plenty of people, enough to boost his ego even more than it already had been after he’d gotten with Bebe Stevens, the hottest girl in school. 

 

He’d also gotten over the whole gay situation, which he put a stop to by ‘breaking up’ with Craig once and for all. Later on, he told everyone he’d only been a confused young boy, and that had seemingly been enough for South Park and after that no one ever mentioned it again. 

 

What still irked him, though, was how hurt Craig had looked. Those dark, emotionless eyes suddenly sparked with… with  _ fear.  _ Fear, rejection, and most of all, hurt. He had looked so heartbroken, but only for a split second. Tweek had blinked once, and that stoic bored expression was across Craig’s features once more. Since then, Craig hadn’t said a word to him. In fact, it was almost like he hadn’t said a word to anyone, even though he received more than a few questions about the large bruise on his cheek the next day at school. He’d apperentley told no one about it. 

 

Ever since that day, nobody seems to remember Craig Tucker. He hadn’t gone missing or anything, people just tended to forget he was there. It sucked, yeah, Tweek couldn’t begin to imagine what that must be like, but he simply shrugged it off and figured to was Craig’s own fault. He’s the one who chose to be antisocial.

 

-

 

Craig Tucker was a measly 130 lbs, standing at 5’7’’. He really didn’t get it, he had been so much taller in fourth grade. Even so, it seemed as if he couldn’t get smaller, what with the way he hung his head in the hallways, or the way he’d shrink in on himself in class. He wanted to be invisible, not small. But even if he covered his mop of hair with his old blue chullo that barely fit him anymore, people still saw him as an open target.

 

Over the years, though, he’d learned to tune it out and go into his own little world filled with Red Racer and guinea pigs. It really didn’t stop the pain, but it helped.

 

After all his friends had abandoned him, Craig Tucker no longer had any reason to try and fit in. He walked alone through the halls, sat in the back of the class, and- actually, he didn’t even bother going to lunch if he wasn’t going to eat anything anyway. Point is, he was a loner. He’d gotten used to it at a young age. 

 

Even now, as he sat in the library and read the latest edition of Rodents 101, no one even bothered to sit, let alone go near him. Ever since Tweek had told the whole school that he, Craig Tucker, was forcing him to do sexual things that he didn’t feel comfortable with, people were scared of him. Sad thing is, nobody ever bothered to ask whether it was true or not. Word got out to the principal, who immediately suspended Craig and sent him to an after school counseling class. Even while he learned about consent and the importance of minding someone’s personal space, no one asked him what had really happened. 

 

The worst feeling, though, was when his sister heard about it. She stared at him, disgusted.  _ His own sister, stared at him like some monster _ . Just the thought alone made him sick. Even while his mom cried and his step dad demanded why he would ever think to do something so horrible, no one asked if he really did it. 

 

Which, if you haven’t already guessed, he didn’t. 

 

Ever since then, his own mother and sister never looked at him the same. His step dad still wore the same look of disgust whenever he looked at him, and when he got drunk tended to push him around a little bit. Fortunately, Craig was smart enough to go upstairs into his room before things got bad. 

 

He’d sit on his bed, and simply stare at the wall, or take out Stripe and cry silently as the small rodent sniffed at his fingers that were constantly getting cold from lack of nutrition. Always, always cold. But even as he cried, he wore an emotionless expression. He hasn’t cracked. Not yet, at least.

 

-

 

Tweek’s father gets out of prison today. He wasn’t particularly excited about it, but he certainly wasn’t unhappy about it either. Without him, there was a sudden peacefulness throughout his household, plus he hadn’t been forced to chug abnormal amounts of coffee everyday. It’s been five years since Tweek had last seen his dad, who had been sent to jail when he was in the beginning of seventh grade. His original sentence was 15 years, but apparently he had somehow gotten it down to five. Tweek wasn’t sure, he never really bothered to tune into what was happening regarding his dad. 

 

All he knows is that whatever happened was bad. Not murder someone bad, but bad nonetheless. He tried getting it out from his mom, but she had been to shell shocked to speak at the time. Ever since, Tweek had decided not to bring it up again.

 

Yet here they were, putting the finishing touches up on cleaning the house and tidying everything up. Tweek’s father was supposed to be here any minute, and his mother had thought to make tea  _ now.  _ She was busying herself in the kitchen when the front door opened to reveal Mr. Tweak, still as tall as Tweek remembered. He gave a bright smile to his son, and suddenly things were back to the way they were before Tweak found out his dad did something bad enough for his own mother to go absolutely white in the face. 

 

“Tweek! My little boy, look how you’ve grown!” Richard exclaimed, wrapping his son up in an uncomfortable hug. Tweek smiled, and patted his father’s back.

 

“H-hey, dad.” Damn. He really thought he was over his stutter. 

 

Richard released Tweek from his embrace to go into the kitchen, presumably to go greet his wife after five years. It’s funny, really, Tweek would’ve thought his mom would be thrilled to see her husband. Guess he was wrong.

 

In the kitchen, Mrs. Tweak gave her husband a hug, the two exchanging soft ‘I love you’s and large smiles. Their hands were entwined with one another’s, and the two went upstairs to help Tweak’s dad unpack. Tweak decided to pour himself a cup of tea, since his mom didn’t even make herself one, the kettle left forgotten on the stove. He decided to watch tv and sip his steaming mug while the sound of footsteps could be heard above. 

 

Tweak pretended not to notice how his mother wouldn’t meet his father’s eyes. 

 

-

 

Craig skipped school today. His mom and dad don’t bother to try to wake him up if he’s late or drive him to school. They’ve stopped caring long ago. 

 

But, unlike other days, today was his choice. Today was different, and he didn’t want to get up and pretend everything was okay because, let’s be honest, it wasn’t.

 

But no one knew that. No one bothered to ask anymore. He could be having a panic attack in the hallway and people would pass him as if nothing was happening. Sometimes, Craig thought he really was invisible. The only thing that proved his theory wrong was the few side glances he received from random students that displayed disgust across their features while he was walking to class or to the bathroom. Nothing new. 

 

But today, he wouldn’t have to deal with that. He didn’t feel like getting shoved to the ground again or kicked in the ribs. No, today he was going to sit in bed and cry, because of how unfair the world is. So there he lay, staring at the ceiling as tears began to pool in his eyes. 

 

Turns out, sitting in bed doing nothing became quite boring after awhile. After about an hour and a half Craig unplugged his phone and scrolled through the news. 

 

A few more recent articles brought up the new Harbucks being put up on the east part of town, while one talked about Richard Tweak being released from prison. He cringed at that one and quickly scrolled past. 

 

Unfortunately, forty minutes later he got a text from his red haired hot headed step dad about how he needed to buy milk. He learned the hard way what would happen if he didn’t go to the store and pick it up. 

 

Craig twisted out of bed, giving a soft yelp as he stumbled to the ground. His legs had given out from under him, and it was then that he realized it was two in the afternoon and he had yet to eat anything. Not to mention he had a killer headache. 

 

Groaning, Craig pulled himself back on his feet, leaning his body against the wall and fighting not to fall again. Although his legs were wobbly, he managed to get downstairs, pull on his coat, grab an apple and walk outside into the cold South Park air. 

 

Luckily for him, no one he knew was out in the town, everyone still in school. Craig cherished this, and for once he didn’t feel confined to hanging his head wherever he went. Maybe at college he’d be at least somewhat popular? Well, wherever he went he was getting as far away from this town as possible. 

 

His short trek to the store was uneventful, and Craig paid for the milk without any conflicts; that is, until he spotted two seniors from school walking into the small corner store. Audibly gulping, Craig tried not to make eye contact as they turned a corner to most likely look at the beer or cheap wine that was in stock. Craig took that as his cue to book it out of there. His throat constricted and his lungs tightened as he walked out through the doors.

 

Craig took deep breaths of fresh air once outside. He could  _ breath,  _ and it felt great. Turning, he made a beeline for home when firm rough hands grabbed at his waist and shoved him into a back alleyway. He was pushed to the ground, multiple pairs of hands grasping and poking at his skin, despite himself  _ hating the feelings.  _ A calloused palm pushed his head to the side, deep into the dirt and just stayed there. Craig couldn’t see anything behind the hand. 

 

Next thing he knew, and swift unexpected kick was being brought to his stomach and, unable to brace for it, made Craig choke out a pained sob. The hand covering his face left, but was soon replaced but a mean backhand across his cheek. The kid in front of him, whom he recognized as Danny Tatum, a football play (how cliche), pulled his fist back then shot it forward. He didn’t feel the next blow because the next thing he knew he was back in his little world filled with Red Racer and guinea pigs. Stars dancing around his head and his mom and Ruby greeted him with opened arms. He saw planets- or, more importantly, the sun, before him. Large and bright, heat bouncing off of it and against his fragile skin. Craig reached his hands out, realizing he couldn’t touch it. 

 

Suddenly, he realized it was disappearing. The large golden orb was slowly sinking down into the horizon, and Craig almost cried because cold gusts of wind began nipping at his back. He broke out into a sprint, trying to catch the sun, but he couldn’t keep up. Behind him, darkness began swallowing everything whole, grabbing at his ankles and-

 

“-aig? Craig!”

 

A familiar voice called out to him. Opening his eyes, Craig Tucker was face to face with golden rays of the sun. Reaching out to feel its heat against his fingertips, Craig realized it wasn’t the sun, but instead his hand was wrapped in golden locks of hair. Confused, he pulled, earning a small gasp from the-

 

Oh. There was a person in front of him.

 

Tweek Tweak stood- or, sat in this case- face to face with Craig Tucker, hsi fake ex boyfriend. Craig’s first instinct was to blush, but was immediately replaced by his cold stoic expression he wore in school. He pulled his hand back as if he was burning, and frantically shook off Tweek’s hands that had gripped his shoulders.

 

He didn’t like being touched. 

 

“S-sorry.” Tweek muttered, blushing. Craig said nothing, but instead settled to stare at him in silence. It was when Tweek’s phone chimed that the Craig snapped out of his trance.

 

“What time is it?” His voice was scratchy, and it was then that he realized tears had dried up on his face. 

 

“6:30, a-anyway, I have to go, um,” Tweek bit his lip, unsure of how to say his goodbyes. “S-see you around?” Craig nodded, though his eyes showed no interest in seeing Tweek again. Looking down, Craig saw that the seniors at least left the milk he had brought by the wall, and upon opening his phone, he’d received zero messages from his mom or step dad. 

 

Like he said before, they stopped caring a long time ago.

 

-

 

Tweek had never felt more uncomfortable in his life. The hair on his neck stood straight up and his fingertips trembled unnaturally as he thought of the state he’d found Craig in just about twenty minutes ago. The chullo hatted boy had been sitting against the wall in an alley, knees pulled to his chest. There were two bruises on his face; one on his cheek and another on his forehead. His face was tear stained and red with his eyes squeezed shut. Craig had been motionless besides his fingers that dug into his scalp and pulled at his hair every once in awhile. It had taken almost ten minutes for Tweek to get him out of the state of being he had been in. 

 

But something about the whole situation had intrigued him. There was something about this boy that he had known so well all those years ago. And something was telling Tweek there was more to Craig than people had let on. 

 

Of course, Tweek was technically at fault for Craig’s downfall. It hadn’t been planned or anything, it was just that Tweek needed a believable reason to break up with Craig and it had been the first thing that popped into his head at the time. It wasn’t his fault Craig never denied it. 

 

Unfortunately, the lack of denial from his ex put Tweek through more guilt trips than Tweek would like to admit. The worst part of it, though, was how much he had benefited from telling such a lie. People began saying they ‘understood why he was such a spaz’ or ‘why he had always been nervous’. At the time, Tweek didn’t really understand how serious the topic was and how much it could ruin someone’s reputation in the matter of hours. Girls fawned over him, boys wanted to look out for him, while all Craig got were a few punches to the face and the responsibility of apologizing in front of the whole school. 

 

Yet he still had never denied it. Not once. 

 

Granted, as far as Tweek knew, nobody ever questioned him. He supposed it just made enough sense and explained a few things like Tweek’s odd behavior and Craig’s dull personality, even if it was entirely false. 

 

But after seeing Craig so… so  _ vulnerable,  _ Tweek realized how bad the situation really was. 

 

No one ever forgave him. He still got beat up, still was stepped on top of and scraped against the ground. He pretended not to notice the nasty looks Craig got in the hallways, but they were there. 

 

They never stopped. Not once.

 

Sighing, Tweek made the trek back to his house, worrying his lip between his teeth. It was at that moment he noticed how bad things were for Craig. Obviously, Craig had problems, given the way he was having a panic attack in the middle of an alleyway. Maybe… maybe breaking up with him really messed him up? Maybe Craig was still heartbroken about losing his first boyfriend? That would explain how shaken up he was the day after. The flinching, the bruise on his face. Right?

  
  
  


“Tweek, dear, you’ve barely touched your dinner.” Mrs. Tweak said after taking a sip of wine. Tweek simply shrugged, too caught up in the days events to care. His dad sat across from him, eyeing his son amusedly.

 

“Tweek, eat your dinner. Your mother worked hard to make it for you, now be appreciative.” 

 

Boom. Theres the Richard Tweak he had always known. His father always acted like everything he did was ‘wrong’ or ‘unappreciative’ with the occasional you’re too spoiled’. It had started bothering Tweek for awhile before he altogether got used to it. 

 

Ignoring his dad, Tweek simply sat in silence and refused to meet eye contact. Instead, he stood from the table, and went upstairs to his room. He didn’t feel like dealing with his parents’ bullshit right now.

 

-

 

He still kept the picture hidden beneath his bed. They sat neatly in a rather large photo book that was now old and brown. But, unlike the book, the photos inside were almost in perfect condition. Clear as day, and every one just as disgusting as the last. And yet Craig still couldn’t seem to finally burn the damn thing. Burning it felt like giving up on getting justice for what had happened all those years ago. He told himself that as long as he still had the scars to prove it, he’d never get rid of the book before coming out with the truth. 

 

The smell of garlic bread wafted into his room and he quickly hid the book back beneath his bed before walking out of his room and down the stairs for dinner. Although his family paid no mind to him and once in awhile didn’t bother setting a plate for him, Craig refused to not eat dinner with his family, whether they loved him or not. 

 

But part of him will never truly be family. Tricia was the daughter of his step dad, she sported his red hair and had his eyes, while craig had dark raven hair. His mom, step dad and sister all had rather pale skin while his was a tad darker despited barely going outside. While their noses were all a bit curved, his was sharp and small. His whole family, including his sister, was lean but stocky, while Craig weighed less than his mother who was a few inches shorter than him.

 

Although he had his mother’s eyes and nasally voice, he would always be the odd one out, related or not. 

  
  
  


As per usual, dinner was silent in exception for the clinks and clanks of silverware. Unsurprisingly, he wasn’t very hungry tonight. The silence was broken by the gruff voice of his step father after he took a long swig of beer. 

 

“Craig, you’re seventeen now.” He began, and when he was met with silence, he continued, “Your mother and I think it’s time you, uh, you start thinking of moving out.” That sure got Craig’s attention. From across the table, he stared at the red haired man in disbelief, and he probably would have broken out in tears if it wasn’t for the fact he almost forgot what it felt like to have emotions. 

 

“I don’t have any money.” was all he said. 

 

“Yes, well, as you know we are very limited with cash as well, and we can’t keep supporting you like this if all you’re going to do is be a burden to us all the time.” 

 

And there it was. There was his proof that his family truly thought he was nothing but a bump in the road, a crack in the wall; a  _ burden. _ He swallowed audibly, finally looking up to be met with three intense stares, all of silent agreement. They wanted him  _ out. _ The only pair of eyes that showed any remorse were the ones of his own mother, who looked like she was choking back tears. He lip was pulled between her teeth and the hand around her glass of wine was gripping just a little too tight. But she never said anything. 

 

No one ever did. 

 

Craig stood, then. He walked away from the table, and turned his back on his… family? No… they weren’t his family, not anymore. Maybe his mom, but the other two didn’t love him. They quite possibly never did. 

 

Craig packed up his stuff, hiding the photo book beneath layers of clothes, held Stripe #7’s cage in his small hands, and left the very house he grew up in, and the same house he was abandoning. 

 

But now, Craig had nowhere to go. He had no other family, his grandparents died three years ago and all aunts and uncles lived outside of South Park. So Craig was faced with a decision; either live on the streets, or live with the only person who knew the truth of his past and who ruined his entire life. 

 

It was when storm clouds formed above his head did he make his choice. 

 

-

 

It was 7 pm when Tweek heard three soft knocks against his door. He was home alone while his parents were out on a date night. Cautiously he made his way to the door. After all, they were in South Park. Virtually anyone could be behind that door. Peeking through the window, Tweek’s brows scrunched together when he saw the familiar blue chullo hat through the glass.

 

“Craig?” He asked confusedly when he opened the door. The kid was drenched, seemingly shivering and cold. It had been raining. Tweek hadn’t noticed until now, but decided to pull Craig into his house. The raven haired boy had a rather large tote bag with him which wasn’t even closed, spilling out with now soaking wet clothes. “What- why are you here?” Craig simply looked down silently. It was when he sniffled softly did Tweek realize he was crying. 

 

Pulling the shorter teen into his arms, which felt all too familiar, Craig’s tears intensified. The hug was awkward at first, after all it’s been so many years since Craig was shown any sort of affection. But, in a matter of seconds, he wrapped his arms around Tweek’s middle and leaned his head against his chest. Silent tears rolled down his face and just when he was about to apologize for getting Tweek’s shirt wet, the latter cradled Craig’s head in his hand and rested his chin atop the dark mop of hair.    
  


The first thing Tweek thought of when he first embraced Craig was how cold the other must’ve been. When his chin came in contact with his head, he almost flinched away due to the wetness. His house wasn’t exactly cold, but in the state Craig was in, he was most likely freezing, and he really wanted to tell him to change out of his soaking clothes. Instead, he held Craig tighter, because it just felt  _ right,  _ as if holding him against his warmer body would help.

  
The two stayed like that for awhile. Or rather Tweek stayed in place while Craig cried and trembled in his arms. For the first time in a long time, Tweek no longer saw the raven haired teen as some dull, emotionless being. The only word the came to his mind was  _ vulnerable.  _

 

Tweek angled his head down, resting his nose against Craig’s slowly drying hair, and breathing in softly. He smelled of cinnamon, with a hint of pine, which was a strange combination but worked surprisingly well. The fingers that rested against the back of Craig’s hair started moving softly, rubbing and combing through the raven locks, enjoying the soft purr that elicited from Craig. His shoulders relaxed from beneath Tweek’s arms, and soon the two were simply holding each other without the sounds of soft gasps and sobs that disrupted the silence now that Craig stopped crying. 

 

They seperated after what felt like hours but actually only a few minutes. Wordlessly, Tweek grabbed Craig’s hand and led him up to his room. Inside, he pulled out a plain t shirt, sweatpants and an old hoodie that was too small for him since his growth spurt. The shorter of the two stood awkwardly by the doorway, watching as Tweek busied himself throughout his room. Once the clothes were assembled neatly on the bed, Tweek left the room and closed the door. 

 

Walking downstairs, Tweek decided to bring the wet tote bag into the laundry room so he could throw the soaking clothes into the dryer. He did so without any trouble, then walked back to the living room to determine what to do with Craig’s guinea pig.

 

Meanwhile, upstairs, Craig was almost to the point of a mental breakdown. 

 

He was back. Back in  _ his house.  _ He had been warned years ago to never come back here, and yet here he was. Bringing his lip back between his teeth, Craig absentmindedly nibbled it while peeling off the disgustingly wet clothes. On the bed, a t-shirt and sweatpants lay along with a simple turquoise sweatshirt. Although all articles of clothing didn’t seem too big, on Craig they were baggy and unflattering. Glancing in the mirror, he cringed at the sight. Usually, oversized anything were considered ‘cute’. The only memo he was getting was ‘homeless’. 

 

He descended the steps slowly, still a bit frazzled to be back in the house he had so many memories in. He found Tweek watching intently at Stripe, which almost made Craig smile. Almost. 

 

“Oh, hey.” Tweek greeted with a soft nod. Craig did the same, but stayed silent. Picking up the rodent’s cage, Tweek began walking past Craig and towards the stairs. “I was think we keep Stripe in my room since, y-y’know, my parents probably won’t be happy if a guinea pig was in their kitchen. Thinking about it now, actually, Tweek realized his parents would generally be pretty pissed if they saw any type of animal in the house. Secretly he knew it was because his mom was deathly afraid of their messes, but he never brought it up. 

 

“Ok.” Craig murmured in an unnaturally meek voice. Tweek cringed. 

 

-

 

“So, my parents are going to be back in like, an hour, maybe? I’ll just tell them-”   
  
“P-please don’t tell them!” Craig basically shouted, much to both noirtette’s shocks. An awkward silence spread through the room, and Craig fought a blush fighting to form along his cheeks.

 

Part of Tweek wanted to ask why. After all, they were his parents, and it was their house. How could he keep another person in his home without them noticing? Tweek scanned Craig’s face wordlessly, noticing how his brows creased and his lip pulled up the slightest. The frightened expression sparked something inside Tweek, and he felt a pull in his chest. The shorter boy’s eyes looked scared- no,  _ terrified. _ And he felt that he knew why. His parents more than likely threatened the poor boy when he was younger after the fib Tweek had told. 

 

The fib that had most likely ruined the kid’s life. Judging by his sunken cheeks, too tiny frame and dark exhausted eyes, Tweek felt that he owed this to Craig. And instead of asking ‘why’, like he so desperately wanted to do, all he said was a simple 

 

“Ok.”

 

And left it at that. They never brought the subject up again. 

  
  
  


As promised, an hour later, Tweek’s parents came home. The plan was, Craig was to hide in the closet while Tweek would say goodnight and that he wasn’t feeling well. 

 

Craig was, to say the least, hesitant to go inside the dark closet. Although he was more than used to closing his eyes  by now, he didn’t want to go back into the dark. He didn’t want to need to squeeze his eyes shut in fear of what he’d see when he opened them oh god he didn’t want to see-

 

_ Breathe.  _ Just breathe, Craig reminded himself. Taking a deep breath, he almost cried in joy when he realized he’d just avoided a panic attack by himself. Feeling the slightest bit better, Craig focused on counting his breaths.  _ In,  _ he inhaled,  _ out,  _ he exhaled,  _ one. In,  _ he inhaled,  _ out,  _ he exhaled,  _ two. _ By the time Tweek came back into the room and opened his closet door, he was at 73.    
  
The funny thing was, Craig didn’t remember curling up against the wall into a fetal position and push his head against his knees. Nor does he remember putting his hands over his ears to block out the noise. Maybe that’s why he didn’t hear Tweek outside the closet door. When it was suddenly pulled open, Craig almost screamed in panic. The only thing that stopped him was the hand that was slapped over his mouth, which belonged to Tweek. It was when deep indigo eyes met emerald green ones did he calm down and sigh through his nose deeply. 

 

“ _ It’s just me.”  _ Tweek murmured, releasing the hand that was over the others mouth and moving it to the top of his head, rubbing the raven hair softly as he’d done earlier that day. As if per routine, Craig instantly became putty, and leaned against Tweek’s chest. To Tweek, this was simply a sign the Craig liked his head rubbed, but to Craig, it was automatic response.

 

-

 

Tweek’s original plan was for Craig to sleep in his bed, but to the left of him so his small body would be hidden by Tweek’s larger frame. Immediately, Craig was sent into a panic and was on the brink of falling into a nervous breakdown.

 

“I-I c-can’t sleep with y-you!” Craig whined, shoulders trebling and hands shooting to his wrists, clwaing and scratching at them. “Y-your… your parents will see!” he cried desperately.

 

“I’ll lock my door. Nobody will be able to get i-”   
  
“No!” Craig would have shouted if it hadn’t been for the crack in his voice that turned his exclamation into a scared whimper. “I-I’ll… I’ll sleep on the floor, o-or-”

 

“ _ Okay.  _ Okay. Just, keep your voice down.” Tweek whispered, stepping out of his room to grab extra blankets and pillows. When he came back, arms full, he found Craig still tearing at his wrists, much to his disatisfaction. Tweek approached him, slowly, after placing his bundle of sleep supplies and took his bony fingers in his. He sat the other on his bed and got to his knees before him. Upon inspection, he found the smaller one’s wrists covered in scars, as well as the newly formed openings in his skin that he had just caused. Frowning, Tweek opened his mouth as if say something, but closed it and instead rubbed his thumbs against the backs of Craig’s hands. Giving a quick squeeze, Tweek left the other once more in search of bandages for his new cuts. No matter how muhc Tweek wanted to ask about the scars and Craig’s apperent nervous tick, he refrained from doing so in fear of upsetting the noirette. For the third time that night, Tweek snuck back into his room, still wary of his parents getting up for whatever reason. 

 

Craig was sitting on the bed and-  _ oh.  _ The teenager had this… this  _ expression.  _ It was blank, absolutely emotionless. His eyes were seemingly frozen, and the only thing indicating this was a living person was the barely there rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed. 

 

“Craig?” Tweek murmured. He frowned when the other showed no signs of recognizing his presence. Internally shrugging, Tweek grasped Craig’s hands and proceeded to wrap them in gauze. Even then, even as Tweek knew it must have brought some sort of pain or… or  _ something,  _ Craig was motionless. “Craig, what’s… what’s the matter?” 

 

He was once again met with silence, and panic began rising in his throat. Tweek placed his hands on Craig’s shoulders, giving a soft shake. He let out a soft cry when the raven haired boy stayed in his seemingly dead trance. Suddenly, he remembered the trick he learned from earlier, and placed a shaky hand in Craig’s hair, petting softly. 

 

Finally,  _ finally,  _ he was met with a reaction. Craig’s eyes squeezed shut, and, out of nowhere, fat tears rolled down his cheeks. Tweek stared in horror, frozen in place. He didn’t think to remove his hand, but stood up when Craig pushed him back. 

 

Tweek expected Craig to simply take the blankets that lay forgotten on the side of the bed. What he wasn’t ready for, was Craig to slink onto his knees before Tweek and continue crying. The smaller teen sniffled, and his fingers went back to his wrists, trying to rip through the bandages. Tweek’s hand twitched, ever so slightly, in Craig’s hair, and the boy went slack beneath his fingertips. Tweek gasped, and retracted his hand as if he had been burned. 

 

Backing up, giving the limp boy some space, Tweek fought not to hyperventilate in sheer confusion and grief. Part of him wanted to yell for Craig to snap out of it, while another, bigger part of him was flooded with guilt at realization that it had been  _ his fault  _ for putting Craig in such a position. As he went through all the peculiar actions that had played out throughout the time spent with Craig, things began piecing together. Like a puzzle, things fit perfectly, and all seemed to imply…

 

_ No. No it… it  _ couldn’t  _ be. _ He was just overreacting. It… this was  _ Craig _ he was talking about. He’d… he’d always been kind of weird, maybe he was just fucking with him.

 

“Craig?” Tweek asked quietly, moving forwards to sit before the shivering boy. 

 

“Y-yes… yes… s-sir?” Craig whimpered.

 

Sucking in a breath, Tweek felt sick, and fought not to throw up right then and there. Clutching his neck, Tweek took deep breaths.  _ Breathe breathe  _ **_breathe Tweek breathe._ ** It seemed that this time, though, Tweek was losing himself to his own battle and the next thing he knew he was being sent into a panic attack. 

 

His chest tightened and his lungs felt like they were full of mud. His mouth was dry, making it impossible for Tweek to yell for someone. 

 

_ I can’t breathe! Oh god, oh god!  _ Tweek clawed desperately at his throat, needing to get a grip on  _ something.  _ Something to grab, something to squeeze. Unfortunately, it seems in Tweek’s place, the only thing he could think of squeezing was his own neck, cutting off his oxygen in the process. He choked on nothing, feeling spit gathering in his mouth and out the corner of it. His wild green eyes saw white, and static filled his ears. 

 

This was it. This was his end. He was going to die and it was all his fault. If only there was something else to grab. But it seemed his hands wouldn’t, no,  _ couldn’t  _ move from their ironclad grip on his throat. 

 

Black surrounded the corners of his already distorted vision, and just as he felt himself losing it, losing his ground and falling, deep blue now clouded his eyesight. Two indigo orbs were before him, and it took awhile for him to realize he was staring into two familiar eyes. Eyes that reminded him of-

 

“Craig?” Tweek choked out hoarsely, now noticing that his hands were no longer digging into his neck, but now crushing Craig’s frailer set of hands. Vision slowly coming back into focus, he now saw Craig’s lips moving. Behind the blood rushing into head and the sound of his heart hammering in his ears, Tweek could sort of form words. 

 

“-okay, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Over and over. 

 

_ Okay? It’s… it’s okay? It-it’s okay, it’s okay, _

 

_ “I’m okay.” _ Tweek breathed softly, no longer hearing his heart jump out of his body and the need for air. Closing his tired eyes, he let out a long breathe and dropped his head down against the carpet. He considered fighting off the tears that so badly wanted to spill from his eyes, but he was just so  _ tired.  _ So, without much thought, he just let tears roll down his cheeks and didn’t bother trying to hide them while his eyes slid shut. All he wanted was for sleep to take him. Take him away from this reality.

 

Small, gentle thumbs shyly rubbed beneath his eyes, and they cracked open to be met with Craig’s worry-filled ones. The boys lip was being bitten between his teeth, and from behind his heavy lids, he could see the smallest trace of blood beginning to form there. He also now saw that Craig had fresh tears forming in his eyes once more. Frowning, Tweek reached his arms out to cradle Craig’s face between his palms and was careful to avoid the top of his head. It was now his turn to wipe at the other’s tears.

 

“I’m okay.” Tweek said once more, “ _ You’re  _ okay.” 

 

Craig’s face broke out into the, not only saddest expression, but also the most expression he’d seen on the boys face in awhile. A sob escaped Craig’s lips, and as soon as he’d heard it Tweek sat up and pulled his against his chest. The small hands that were on Tweek’s face moved to the front of his shirt and grabbed almost desperately. Craig shook as sobs wracked his body, while Tweek just lets tears slide down his face. The two stayed like that for awhile, until both slipped into restless sleeps but never stopped clinging to one another.

 

-

 

Craig was back in the closet. This time, though, Tweek left the door open by a crack so at least there was some sort of light for the boy. Tweek also gave Craig his old phone. Although it was way outdated, it still worked and had a few games on it that may have lagged severely but Craig didn’t even notice. After all these years, he finally had a phone. Tweek had specifically said he could keep it. 

 

Currently, he was playing some sort of baking game. He had no idea what he was doing, but the bright colors were more than enough entertainment for Craig. Unfortunately, Craig was so entranced by the device he didn’t even notice someone come into Tweek’s room. By the time he registered it, it was too late to close the door and hide. The most he could do was slap a hand over his mouth and nose and pray to god whoever was scuffling about the other’s room doesn’t see.

 

Peering through the crack, Craig’s heart stopped when he saw whoever was in the room was, in fact,  _ not  _ Tweek. It was his mom, Mrs. Tweak. She was putting away laundry and fixing up his bed sheets. She was straightening up his desk when her eyes scanned over the closet door. Craig presumed she noticed how it was askew, and went to close it. Despite how much he was trying and how much restraint he was using, he couldn’t stop the choked out cry that emmitted past his lips and was most definitely audible. 

 

Mrs. Tweak stopped, right in front of the door and was frozen in place. Craig assumed her hand was on the knob because as much as he could see, her arm was outstretched. A tear escaped his eye when the door began cracking open and he was surprised he wasn’t going into a seizure due to how much he was shaking. Forgetting about the phone, Craig’s hands found their way to his hat’s side flaps and yanked down, over his eyes and just above his nose. His lip quivered as the chullo was becoming wet with tears. 

 

The door was wide open. He could feel the rush of air and slight change of light from beneath his hat. He knew she’d most likely scream. Probably yell for her husband to call the cops because some  _ rapist  _ was in her home. At least, that’s what she’d called him all those years ago. 

 

Instead, he was met with silence. He slowly,  _ slowly  _ loosened his grip on his hat, and peeked out from under it. His eyes met pale green ones and the all too familiar bob that belonged to Mrs. Tweak. He looked up at her pleadingly through tears, hearing his hiccups and cries easily through the silence. As soon as she appeared, she was gone and Craig choked out a sob because he  _ knew  _ she was going to tell her family. His stomach lurched, twisted in pain and waited for the sound of those heavy stomps up the steps to make their way into the room he was in and rip him out from the closet. He waited as agonizing seconds passed for a yell, for a scream to signify that Mrs. Tweak had announced he was in the closet.

 

But… but that moment never came. There was no noise. There wasn’t even any trace of a voice from outside the room. His ears strained, and part of his wondered if they were waiting for him to crawl out of that room, only to pull him back inside.

 

Or, in this case, outside he supposed. 

 

He did hear feet ascending the stairs, but they didn’t sound angry. No, instead they were light. Those steps did make their way into Tweek’s room, but they were gentle and in no hurry. Behind the tears, he made out Mrs. Tweak’s small feet. He looked up, confused, and saw her holding a plate of food. Her expression was filled with sympathy, and Craig almost yelled in fright because this… this was  _ so  _ unexpected. 

 

Slowly, as if approaching a scared animal, she crouched down, and presented the plate. Craig stared at it, wordlessly, and just now saw she had a glass of orange juice that looked  _ delicious.  _ He hadn’t had any water since yesterday, and it was at that moment he realized how dry his mouth was. 

 

Small, shaky hands reached out, scared Mrs. Tweak would pull the plate away and instead throw it at his face. But, once again to his surprise, she actually pushed it forward, enough for Craig’s fingertips to brush the white porcelain. He brought it back to rest against the tops of his thighs, then tentatively reached back out for the glass. He chugged in gratefully, ignoring the way the citrus burned his taste buds that haven't drank anything so flavorful in years. Once every last drop had been downed, Craig finally took a breath for air. He looked at his plate, and drooled at the sight of eggs, bacon and a homemade muffin. His wide eyes met Mrs. Tweak’s grief-filled ones, and suddenly he saw tears begin to rise inside of hers. 

 

When their eyes met, her breath stuttered and suddenly she jolten back, onto her feets.

 

“ _ I’m so sorry.” _ She murmured, and took one last glance at Craig before shutting the closet door closed and rushing out of the room. Craig sat in shocked silence for awhile, then heard three soft taps on the door, which opened to reveal Tweek who was showered and dressed for school. His eyes landed on the plate and empty glass that was beside Craig, and immediately his eyebrows shot up.

 

“Where did you get that?” He asked, pointing to the dishes.

 

“Y-you’re mom, uh, she… gave it to me. A-are you m-mad?” Craig asked softly, hands inching toward his wrists once more. Tweek immediately shook his head firmly, moving back for Craig to get out of the closet and stand. Tweek informed that both his parents had left, but he was still shaken that his mom hadn’t told her dad Craig was in their house. It irked him, and it explained why she had acted so fidgety before his dad had left. He sighed, and shook it off. Tweek proccu[ied himself by cleaning up the dishes from inside the closet. All he could say was that he was beyond grateful for his mom, and he wasn’t sure what would have happened to Craig had his dad found him. 

 

-

 

School was uneventful, but Tweek felt a sudden possessiveness over Craig. In the halls, he stuck by him. During lunch, Tweek sat with him. In all the classes they had together, you guessed it, Tweek was beside Craig the entire time. He ignored the stares. He ignored the whispers and looks he received, but most of all he ignored the way Craig tried to get him to leave.

 

“You’re r-ruining yours-self! Y-your resput-tation!” Craig cried desperately during their free period. They were alone as they walked together. Or, rather, Tweek followed Craig. 

 

“I don’t care, Craig. I... “ Tweek trailed off, brows furrowing and teeth clenching. “I have to tell the truth.” 

 

This got Craig’s attention. He looked up, expression blank, until realization hit him and fear spread through his features. 

 

“N-no! Are you Nuts?!” Craig cried, fingers shaking. “Tweek, you… everyone will hate you! T-they’ll hurt you, j-just like they hurt m-me!” 

 

“Who hurt you?” Tweek exclaimed, eyes widening and posture stiffening. Craig realized his mistake, immediately looking down at his feet and turning to walk away. A hand grabbed at his collar and he was yanked back against a firm chest. It took a second to remember this was  _ Tweek’s  _ chest, not-

 

“Craig.” Tweek said firmly, “Who. Hurt. You.” Craig shook his head, and shook from his grip. As soon as he was somewhat free, and took off, running. Tweek stood for a mere second before breaking out into a sprint after him, forgetting about the rest of classes and only thinking of Craig. Only thinking of who  _ dared  _ to lay a hand on him. 

 

Part of Tweek was scared. Scared that when Craig told him not only who hurt him but… but  _ how,  _ he’d already know that answer to the last one. But if- no,  _ when  _ Craig told him who did this to him, Tweek wouldn’t hesitate to punch the living daylights out of them. He’d make them wish they never even thought of Craig. He would make them regret everything. 

 

Unfortunately, Craig’s small body was stronger, and faster, than Tweek initially thought, because the next thing he knew he was lost. Well, no, that wasn’t right. He knew where he was, he just didn’t know where Craig had gone. 

 

_ Damnit.  _

 

Checking his phone, he saw there was still twenty minutes left till school ended. He was scared. Scared for Craig, scared for what happened to him, but most of all, he was scared of himself. 

 

What he was about to do was going to ruin his life. Everything he worked for, everything that made him at all popular and what made people actually want to know him in the first place. 

 

He took a deep breath, and turned on his heels, breaking back into a sprint and back towards school. 

 

Once inside, he went straight for the principal’s office, and demanded an urgent meeting. 

 

-

 

Word gets around quickly in such a small town. Now, virtually everyone knew about the major lie that ruined one little boy’s life. 

 

Richard Tweak was back at work, and business was good. People didn’t treat him at all differently since he came back from prison, and he supposed his wife had kept her promise in not talking about the situation to anyone, or at least bringing it up. He appreciated that greatly, and wondered what he did to marry such an amazing woman. 

 

Unfortunately, his day was about to go from good to pretty awful, because in came Thomas Tucker, the little shit Craig’s father. He and Thomas stopped talking when word got around about his son. He was very proud of his son for having such courage to say something as serious as that. 

 

“R-Richard!” Thomas, said breathlessly, as if he just booked it here as fast as he could. Actually, given the state he was in, he probably did. “I…” He took a second to breathe, “Your… my... “

 

“Just spit it out, Thomas.” Richard said cooly, still a bit wary of the man due to his son’s history. 

 

“Have you seen Craig?” Thomas breathed. Richard didn’t miss the hint of pain he heard in his voice. “Craig… my...  Craig my son.” 

 

_ Oh shit. _

 

“Your…” Richard trailed off, staring at him with a dumbfounded expression. “But I heard you kicked him out?”

 

“It was a mistake. T-Tweek, your kid he… He told everyone.” Thomas said, hanging his head slightly. “He lied. Craig never… he never did anything to him. He never did anything and I…  _ oh god.”  _ Suddenly. It seemed like Thomas was going to cry, while Richard was almost on the verge of exploding. 

 

“What.” was all he said.

 

“Tweek told the school. Admitted it was only because he wanted a reason to break up with Craig. Oh, dear god, I’ve messed up, Richard. I’ve… we’ve all messed up, so bad.” Thomas whimpered, and Richard honestly thought it was pathetic. 

 

“Why would I know where  _ your  _ son is?” Richard spat, wanting to be finished with the conversation.

 

“Last time everyone saw him was with Tweek, apparently.” 

 

-

 

Craig was scared.  _ Scared, scared, scared.  _ He was scared because he was alone, in a house that wasn’t his. A house that belonged to the person who ruined his life. Here he sat, silently, peeking out the crack of the closet door. His hands were wrapped around his waist, and fought hard not to start scratching at his wrists. He was alone, alone, alone once more. He’d only just reconnected with Tweek and he  _ needed  _ him here. But, no matter what, he’d never tell him the who did this to him. Never. 

 

But back in this house, alone, was terrifying. Without the reassurance that Tweek was here, at least in the same house as he was, he felt once again alone. And…  _ oh god,  _ he was back in this room. At least he was away from the bed. At least he… at least…

  
  


_ “Shut up!” He yelled, slapping a hand over Craig’s mouth and pushing him deeper into the mattress. “Shut the hell up before I shove my goddamn sock down your throat.” _

 

_ Craig shook his head, shaking uncontrollably and squeezing his eyes shut, feeling more tears roll down his cheeks. Be good, and it won’t hurt as much. Be good, and he wouldn’t have to be forced to say he liked it. Be good, and He wouldn’t tie his wrists back together.  _

 

_ Finally, after minutes of getting his head shoved down more and more and breathing deeply through his nose so he wouldn’t cry out, the hand on his mouth left, and instead he was pulled up by his hair. When the fingers that were threaded through his dark locks, he knew what he was supposed to do. He knew. He knew he needed to be good, but… but he couldn’t.  _

 

_ “Fine.” He hissed, and instead shoved Craig back down, causing his small head to smack against the headboard and for the boy to cry out in pain. Craig wanted to put a stop to this. He wanted to push back against the large chest that would push his small ribs into the mattress while he hurt him again and again.  _

 

_ But he remembered the last time he’d done that. The last time he dared to put his hands on Him, he’d been locked in the closet for days. Instead, Craig scratched desperately at his already raw wrists that had been abused but the rope that usually was wrapped around it.  _

 

_ When the all too familiar sound of a belt buckle being undone rang in his ears, Craig squeezed his eyes shut as hard as possible. Maybe, if he closed his eyes, it wouldn’t hurt as much. _

_   
_ _ He was wrong. The pain was still  _ **_awful._ ** _ It still made him grunt and cry, and try to wiggle out from beneath the large body that pushed him against the mattress. But He kept pushing. More, and more and  _ **_more_ ** _ of Him forced itself inside of his tiny body, and he cried. He cried, but was silenced by aa tongue shoving itself in his mouth. Craig wanted so badly to bite down on it, as hard as possible and laugh as He would scream in pain.  _

 

_ Craig pretended not to notice how She would sometimes see them. She’d look, and once even they’d locked eyes, but she quickly ran away. He figured it was his punishment. He figured being alive was his punishment. Death sounded so much better. So, so much better.  _

 

_ He was brought out of his thoughts when He started moving, and with each thrust Craig let out whimpers and grunts of pain. The hand was back over his mouth, but it didn’t stop him from making noise. It hurt so much.  _

 

_ Digging his fingernails into his wrists helped little, but it helped nonetheless. Something to grab on, something to keep him grounded and sane.  _

 

_ It ended after what felt like hours, but was actually only a matter of minutes. He never lasted long. Not since he’d bring him into This bed. This specific bed seemed to fuel his fantasies. When he felt that disgusting goo fill his insides, he let out the most sorrowful noise he’d ever heard come out of his own mouth. No matter how absolutely grief filled it was, He simply moaned and grabbed his frail hips even harder, making Craig cry out. Even then, worst part wasn’t over.  _

 

_ He pulled out of him, and he sobbed at the feeling. He heard a click, then a flash overtook his senses. Opening his eyes, no matter how much he didn’t want to, he looked over, and felt a new wave of tears overtake him. It was so humiliating. After all of that, you’d think things couldn’t get worse. But no, things just didn’t seem to be fair for Craig, because after every what He called ‘session’, he took a picture with his ugly little polaroid, and place it in his disturbingly large photo album that was hidden inside the mattress of the bed he was laying on. He whimpered, closing his eyes once more in defeat. A rough hand was placed on his head, and fingers massaged softly. Weakly, Craig rolled off of the bed and sat on his knees. _

 

_ Rough, disgusting skin filled his senses, filled his mouth, filled his throat. _

 

-

 

People glared at him. Rumors were spread about him. People were out to get him. But Tweek didn’t care. After the school announced how he lied to everyone almost his whole life, he was no longer the somewhat popular kid in school. No, now he was the new Craig, and Craig was the new Tweek. 

 

But part of him was relieved. Part of him, a large part of him, was so fucking happy. He was on the verge of tears because of how happy he was. He didn’t care. Tweek didn’t care that everyone would hate him for the rest of his life. All that mattered was that the truth was out, and Craig was no longer hated. 

 

He walked home, avoiding the bus because he knew people would most likely throw trash at him and pour their spoiled milk in his head. Even though he deserved all of that, now wasn’t the time. He needed to find Craig.

 

His theory was confirmed when he saw his closet in his room opened just a crack. He lightly rapped at the door once, twice, three times. When the door opened without Tweek needing to touch it, he breathed a sigh of relief. 

 

Unfortunately, Craig was not in the state Tweek expected to find him in. He was trembling like mad, tears rolled down his cheeks and the bandages that once wrapped around his wrists were long forgotten and tossed to the side. Blood dripped from his wrists, and immediately Tweek panicked. Forgetting about being careful, Tweek grabbed Craig’s hand and pulled it towards him, inspecting the cuts. Much to his relief, the scratches were not deep enough to cause any life threatening damage. 

 

He stood, left the room to find more gauze and a damp towel.

 

Tweek, unfortunately, did not hear the front door open and someone storm up the stairs. 

 

-

 

Thomas Tucker was in an absolute panic. His son was nowhere to be seen, and after all this time of thinking his son was disgusting, he now realizes that it was he himself who was the disgusting one. 

 

To his dismay, he also noticed that he’d never heard anyone ever ask Craig if he’d actually done it. Not one person he knew of bothered to ask the poor boy whether it was true or not. Tweek had looked so genuinely scared, everyone had assumed it was true. This whole town consisted in a bunch of idiots. 

 

He ran into the school, yelling for his son’s name, over and over. He suddenly heard a “DAD!” from across the hallway and for a fleeting moment he thought he found Craig. Unfortunately, it was only Tricia, but Tricia or not it was someone else to help him find Craig.

 

“Tricia, you need to-”

 

“I know.” She said, guilt, regret and overall emotion bleeding through her features. “Fuck, dad, I  _ know.”  _ Thomas nodded, the two parting ways and desperately calling for Craig. “I’ll text you if I find anything!” Tricia yelled to him, before turning and running down the halls of the school. 

 

-

 

Tweek was wrapping Craig’s wrists up, the two sharing a comfortable silence. Tweek was itching to break it, so he did.

 

“I ruined your life.” He murmured, and instantly he felt indigo eyes on him. “I ruined your life, and I never fucking said sorry. So, I…  _ I’m so, so sorry, Craig.” _

 

The smaller boy was silent for a while, and after that silence got awkward, Tweek swallowed and focused back on wrapping his wrists. Tweek had done his best to clean the up. They looked much better without the blood, and he was pleased to find they actually weren’t as deep as he’d initially thought. With an old damp towel and some neosporin, Craig’s wrists were looking 70% better. 

 

“You didn’t ruin my life.” Craig finally replied, making Tweek jump because of how hoarse his voice was. He must have been screaming bloody murder before he got home. “You… you weren’t the one…”

  
“But… but you…” Tweek fell silent, and nibbled at his lip for a second. “You talk in your sleep, Craig. You… said that you were back in the house with the guy who ruined your life. Something like that, anyway. But, I know I did. What I did to you was awful and-”

 

“It wasn’t you.” Craig insisted. Tweek closed his mouth and stared at him, green eyes searching deep indigo ones.

 

“You don’t have to-” Tweek was cut off when Craig suddenly ripped his arms out from Tweek’s hands. Before he had time to question him, a rough hand was in his hair and he was being yanked back, away from Craig, who cried out as he watched Tweek, his sun, his light, be pulled away from the darkness of the closet.

 

-

 

Tricia Tucker regretted a lot in life. She regretted taking that first drag of her friend’s cigarette, she regretted not asking that boy out before he started dating her so called best friend, and she regretted not trying out for the volleyball team. But most of all, she regretted never asking her brother what had really happened. She never thought once that maybe,  _ maybe  _ there had been some type of mistake, some sort of misunderstand or simply just a little kid telling a lie.

 

Speaking of little kids, Tricia also felt a jab in her chest when she thought about how young Craig had been when Tweek ‘admitted’ Craig was making him do sexual acts he was uncomfortable with. He wasn’t really young, but on the other hand he wasn’t at that point of his life where he actually used common sense.

 

As Tricia was going over the facts, more and more flaws seemed to pop up that didn’t fit right with Tweek’s fib he told years ago. For example, Craig probably had no idea what ‘sex’ was, oh dear he was probably so confused. His whole family,  _ everyone  _ ignored him after that, and Tricia wanted to cry because she was far from innocent. 

 

She shivered when a particularly strong gust of wind ruffled her pigtails, which she now realizes she’s outgrown and looks stupid with them in. As she was walking, though, she saw three teenagers walking back from the direction she was headed. Tricia began preparing herself to question them, and halted the group when their paths crossed.

 

“Wait, uh, oh.” She scrambled to get her phone out that had the last picture of Craig taken from about three years ago, “Do you, or um, have you seen this guy? He’s my brother, Craig Tucker?” She probably didn’t need a picture, after all South Park was tiny and at this point everyone knew who Craig was.

 

Two of the three boys shook their heads solemnly, while the last stared wide eyed at the figure. 

 

“ _ Holy shit.”  _ The last one whispered, and the next thing everyone knew he was throwing up on the grass beside the pavement. Tricia cringed and looked away, while the two other boys stood, shocked. When he was finished, he shakily wiped his mouth and coughed. “I… fuck, someone… some guy… he…” The guy shook his head, cheeks dusted heavily with red. The three of them stared, Tricia becoming impatient when he shook his head. “This guy said he had, uh… pictures, and they were a real good price… I just thought he was short, not that… h-how old is he?” When Tricia told him he was 17, the teen looked like he was going to throw up again. “The pictures… they were old.”    
  
“What were they  _ of?”  _ Tricia demanded, obviously not understanding what he meant. After all, she was much younger than all of them. The guy shook his head and tried to push past her, but before he could start running away she grabbed his sleeve. “Fine, don’t tell me. Just… who sold them to you?” 

 

“I think he owns a coffee shop of some sort.” That was all the information she needed before breaking out into a sprint, immediately knowing where her brother was. 

 

Problem is, she had no clue if he was still alive or not.

 

-

 

Tweek was roughly thrown on the bed, and Craig felt his chest tighten at the sight.  _ No, no! He was… He was going to hurt him the way he hurt me.  _ No matter how much Craig wanted to run from out of the closet and rip Him away from his light, his legs wouldn’t let him. Craig was frozen in place, and could only watch in horror as He pinned Tweek beneath him, the way he used to do all those years ago.

 

“D-dad! Dad, what the fuck, man!” Tweek screeched, fighting against Richard’s grip. From his position on his bed, he could hear Craig’s desperate cries. Tweek’s gaze looked towards the noise, and bright eyes locked with dark ones. His breath came out in short sputtering breaths when a large hand pushed his chest down,  _ hard.  _ His father’s other hand trailed lower, lower, and eventually off of the bed. He reached under the mattress and pulled out some sort of photo album that Tweek had never seen before in his life. “W-what is that?” 

 

Richard said nothing, but smirked when he heard Craig emit a noise of despair. Said dboy cringed at the noise. What should have been a shout of panic came out as a whine of weakness, and Craig hated that he was too afraid to fight back in the slightest. Besides, last time he’d fought back Richard chained him to a pillar inside of the Tweak’s small shed at was outside for about a month. There was no heat, no bathroom- Richard at least had the decency to let him use the bathroom one a day, unless he forgot- no food or water. Just Craig, and his dark,  _ dark  _ thoughts. 

 

But that had been years ago. Regardless, Craig still felt the man’s hands on his body constantly. In the beginning, though, things were no better. Well, no, that was a lie. At first, Craig could go to school still and sleep in his own room. It was when Tweek had ‘confessed’ the reason for his and Craig’s breakup did Richard take that as the perfect time to strike. His parents hadn’t cared the slightest where he’d go, when he came home and what happened to him at that point. It was just to perfect for Richard that the man went as far as to keep him locked away in Tweek’s room while the boy was at a camp for his spasms and twitches. It’d been awful. The first day especially. Richard was non stop hurting him, over and over and  _ over  _ again. Round after round, it seemed like Richard’s stamina never ran out. Craig had been so exhausted, in fact, he fell asleep right before RIchard started up again. What an awful thing to wake up to; A grown man’s chest pressing your small face against the now sex-smelling mattress. 

 

Things were cut off when Richard was sent to prison. Unshockingly, he was convicted for the selling of child pornography. And, you guessed it, Craig was in every one of those pictures he sold. Even now, years later, always knowing where Richard hid the huge binder full of disgusting photos, Craig never dared to look at them. If he did, he’d most definitely send his mind in a spiral and have an uncontrollable mental breakdown or panic attack. Craig could never relive those horrible, mind shattering days.

 

And now? Now, Craig was watching his best friend's father show him every last one of those pictures. He wanted to throw up. For the first time in so, _so long,_ someone was showing him that they cared. But once Tweek saw even one of those countless photos, he’d think Craig was a freak. He’d think he was a slut, a _whore._ He’d call him out for sleeping with his father, for sure. Or, Tweek wouldn’t say anything, but all together just stop talking to him, and let Craig drown in his self hate. The second option seemed to scare him more for some reason. 

 

-

 

His dad, his fucking  _ father,  _ was pinning him beneath the weight of his body, just to pull out a stupid photo album. 

 

“What the hell?” Tweek screeched, fighting to push his father off of his waist. The man was simply paging through an old worn out looking binder. He seemed to stop at one specific page, and soon Tweek’s curiosity was reaching a peak. His eyebrow raised slightly and his struggles stopped. Richard, now wearing a smirk, slipped the book around, agonizingly slow. Tweek barely registered the loud cry that came from Craig when the page was on full display for him, and immediately Tweek was sick.

 

“What the…  _ What… what the fuck, dad? What the hell is that?!”  _ Tweek shouted, anger, confusion and fear soaking through his features.  _ “What is that? W-who… Dad what the fuck is that?!”  _ He repeated, over and over, on the verge of going into hysterics. Tweek’s chest heaved sharply, wheezing when his father turned the page to show more of those disturbing, sickening pictures. “N-no! No, don’t show me that shit!” He yelled, doubling his efforts in throwing the man off of him. His fighting stopped only when a sharp slap was slung across his face. Tweek’s brows curled up, eyes now widening in fear at the look his father was giving him. 

 

“You  **do not** speak to your father that way.” Richard hissed. Instead of more lecturing, the man simply continued presenting more and more stomach churning images of some boy being…  _ oh god.  _ Tweek’s throat constricted, filled with bile that was so close to coming out of his mouth. It only became worse when he saw the poor kid’s face, badly beaten, red and tear streaked. He realized, with a hard, painful jab to his heart that he recognized who ever it was. He knew this boy, but he just… he couldn’t…

 

“ _ Craig.”  _ Tweek murmured, eyes widening in horror and bile rising out of his mouth. Quickly, he turned to the side, and felt the acid leave his throat and land on the carpet. Tears rolled down his cheeks, and sobs broke out from behind his lips.  _ Craig. It had all been Craig. All those pictures, all those tears and scars and blood, it was all Craig.  _ It was then, he realized, why his dad had told him to say Craig was sexually pressuring him to do things. Ot all made sense. It was a plan to get Craig vulnerable and alone. And it worked, and it was all Tweek’s fault. “You…  _ you’re a monster.”  _ Tweek hissed.

 

Richard’s reply was a harsh punch to his cheek,  which caused Tweek’s head to turn towards the closet Craig was huddled and crying in. There, Craig had his hands around his wrists, scratching like crazy and tearing open the old cuts and drawing more blood. Tears also rolled down his face, with his eyes clenched shut so tightly it looked like it was beginning to hurt. Tweek wanted to get out from under his dad’s weight. He really,  _ really  _ wanted to take Craig’s hands off of his wrists. He wanted to kiss those small, bony wrists. Then, he’d kiss every one of his fingertips, his knuckles, his scars. 

 

Then, Tweek would take Craig’s face between his palms, gently, and kiss the tears that rolled down his cheeks and made tracks along his beautiful thin face. He’d kiss that small, red nose and those enchanting, indigo eyes that reminded Tweek of the night sky. Finally, he would place the softest, chastest kiss atop Craig’s soft, pillowy lips. No lust, no desire, just something to tell Craig he was there, and he didn’t need to cry or be scared. No matter what, Tweek was always going to be there. 

 

But right now, he wasn’t there for Craig. No, instead, he was trapped beneath his father’s body while he flipped through the most disgusting pictures of the boy who was tearing frantically at his wrists. From across the room, he could hear Craig’s soft whines of panic and fear. Once more, Tweek found himself wanted to go to him. 

 

Richard could tell his son wasn’t paying attention. After all, who wouldn’t be able to get distracted when the precious little boy he’d kept prisoner for years was in this very room? His sweet, sweet little boy…

 

He could feel his cock harden at the thought. Innocent, little Craig, beneath him as his very own son watched his defilement. How wonderful a fantasy. 

 

Acting quick, Richard reached beneath the bed once more to search for the old rope he’d used the years before with little Craig. Feeling the rough material between his fingers, he tugged it out from within the mattress. With some struggle and lots of frustration, Mr. Tweak had Tweek’s ankles tied snugly together, with one wrist attached to the two, and one arm free so he wasn’t fully restricted. Said boy screeched in anger, tugging firmly at the bonds and spitting unregarded threats to his father. It was when he realized RIchard was moving toward the closet Craig was hiding in did he redouble his efforts, panicking as his father got closer and closer.

 

Craig was not paying attention. He was in his own world, whispering ‘ _ it’s okay it’s okay it’s okay’  _ on repeat the way he had with Tweek.  _ Tweek. Just think of Tweek.  _ He reminded himself. Unfortunately, while thinking of the boy, he was not aware of Him coming closer to his curled up body. A large, familiar hand rested atop his head, and on instinct, without a second of hesitation, Craig’s body went limp and fell to the floor. 

 

RIchard dragged the boy’s motionless body across the floor, avoiding the pile of vile on the ground that made his nostrils sting, and pulled him up on the other side of the bed. Against the mattress, Craig’s eyes were facing Tweek. Deep indigo flooded with tears, Craig’s lip was trembling so very slightly, as if the littlest movement would get him hurt. 

 

Without much thought, Tweek extended his one free arms, long fingers finding limp bony ones. They were cold, and it was then he saw Craig’s shirt was off, and reality began sinking in. His father, the man he’d grown to trust throughout the years of him growing up, was going to… god, he was… 

 

Tweek felt sick, but refused to break contact with Craig. It felt that the two sharing eye contact was keeping the raven haired boy ground, as well as their two hands that were intertwined. Speaking of which, Tweek gave a soft squeeze to his hand. Through the tears, through the sounds of a belt unbuckling and through Craig’s wheezes, Tweek could see the slightest recognition in the boy’s eyes. Those deep eyes, that were now expressionless and unwavering. 

 

Tweek didn’t like crying in front of Craig. Granted, he’s done it before, but it was different. This was really happening. This… this was unstoppable. 

 

The worst part is, Tweek was the one who brought Craig into the situation. He brought him back into the house that his whole life was ruined day and day on, again and again. The dates on those pictures dated all the way back to the day they broke up, and Tweek felt queasy when he remembered the dark bruise that was on Craig’s face that day. 

 

But now all he could do was hold on. His thumb rubbed in soft circles against Craig’s pale skin, and he felt a new wave of tears when Craig emitted a soft cry when Tweek’s father’s hands were on his tiny hips. This was really happening. This was happening, and all Tweek could do was cry. 

 

It seemed like luck was on their side, though, because the next moment the door burst open, and there, standing before it, was none other than Tricia Tucker, pigtails and all. She held a frying pan which he recognized from his own kitchen, and immediately he felt hope bloom in his chest. From behind the tears, he could feel his smile. 

 

Richard, though, was not nearly as happy. In fact, he was furious. His hands left Craig’s hips, and suddenly said boy let out a gasp and large heaving sobs as if he had been holding his breath. Mr. Tweak stormed forward, eyes dangerous and stance ready to tackle the significantly shorter girl. Although Richard was large, Tricia was quick, and easily dodged when he lunged at her. She landed a hit with the pot against the back of his thigh, and he growled for a split second before kicking back and sending her to the ground. 

 

Richard grabbed her shoulders and held her against the ground, ripping the pan from her fingers and holding it in his own. He raised it, ready to send it flying down. In that moment, Tweek’s hope flew out the window, and he went back to rubbing Craig’s shaking fingers. His father brought the pan down, and Craig flinched, eyes sliding shut tightly and shivering when the girl gave a shout in pain. Craig shook his head, as if denying the sounds that traveled to his ears. Before Richard could land another hit, though, in stormed Thomas Tucker, absolutely fuming in pure fury. 

 

He grabbed Richard by the collar, throwing him easily across the room and into the wall. Richard groaned, face twisting in pain, but recovering quickly and was ready for the next punch. After five years in prison, it seemed he had become significantly stronger and much more agile, much to everyone’s dismay. He was able to move from the punch that was thrown towards him, and threw the pot into Thomas’ stomach. Said man groaned, stumbling back a bit and was not as quick to recover. Richard used this to his advantage, getting a good punch in at Mr. Tucker’s cheek, forgetting about the pan since he’d used his fists the most during jail time.

 

Thomas arose back on his feet, and swung one, twice, and finally got one hit on Richard. This time, he stumbled significantly more, but now enough to give Craig’s dad a good advantage. Once again, Richard flung himself at Thomas, this time full on tackling him to the ground and going wild at his face. 

 

Tweek’s fingers were tight around Craig’s, whose breathing had evened out after a few moments. His small head turned, looking at his sister first, who lay on the ground sporting a bloody nose and probably missing a tooth. Not far from her was his dad, who was fighting Him. His father was losing, badly, and Craig felt bad. Whether he neglected him or not, Thomas was still his dad. But… but could the same be said about Richard? Surely not. After all, what Thomas did was purely out of fear and confusion. He didn’t know how to react towards Craig, so he didn’t react at all and stopped acknowledging him all together. What Richard did, though, was different. He didn’t act out because he was scared, he did what he did over pure selfishness. Richard was a sick man. Anyone could agree. 

 

And after all those years, for the first time, Craig’s father was actually fighting for him. He was fighting so hard, whether he was losing or not. Craig didn’t care. For so long, all he ever wanted was right before him; An accepting father, one who cared for him. But now? Now, he wasn’t even sure Thomas was going to make it out alive. With the way Richard was pounding into his face, it would only take a few more minutes before he was as good as dead. 

 

So, reluctantly, Craig pulled away from Tweek’s warm hand. Despite his body fighting against him, he was able to move on his own accord. He sat up, and saw the pan from across the room that had been discarded awhile ago. His small feet came in contact with the carpet and on shaky legs, he stumbled his way around the fighting men without Richard noticing him. His small fingers wrapped around the cold metal handle. He lifted it slowly, now realizing how weak he was. But that didn’t matter, all that mattered now was saving his father, saving his sister, saving Tweek and saving himself. 

 

Wobbly legs brought him behind Him. He was still going full force at his dad, and although over the years that face had shown him no affection, even when he was sent away, now Craig felt a twist in his stomach when he saw it. He… he felt  _ love.  _ No matter what, he’d always loved his father, his parents, his sister. Despite fighting for his life alone, in the end, they seemed to come to his rescue. Now, it was his time to return the favor. Lifting the pan up, behind his head, he prepared to strike. The grunts of pain and contact of fist against skin was the only sound that came from the room, as if everyone was holding their breath. 

 

Something, though, was holding him back. This man…  _ He  _ told him he loved him. Of course, Craig never believed it… at least, at first. No matter how many times he had hurt him, He was the only person who seemed to give a damn about Craig. He’d called him His ‘precious little baby’ at times, His ‘fragile jem’. If you thought about it, He protected Craig… right? 

 

His own father never called him those things. Thomas never once said ‘I love you’ for… what… eight years maybe? Not once. 

 

But Richard had. Over, and over. Whether Craig was crying, shrinking away, begging for the end, he’d mutter it under his breath. Desperation, in the end, got the best of Craig. He’d begun to believe it…

 

_ I’ll take good care of you, Craig  _ He was say to him as his long arms wrapped themselves around Craig’s small waist.  _ I’ll make sure nobody, except me, lays a hand on you _

 

He didn’t really keep that promise, obviously. But he tried, if locking Craig away for months straight counted. Sad thing is, nobody ever looked for him. 

 

Now, though, he was given a choice. He could let Richard kill his father and most likely his sister as well. He could let Him do whatever he pleases with Craig, submit to him and just… give up. It would be so easy to do that. No effort was needed, he’d drop the pan, lay back on the bed, and watching Tweek stare at him in disbelief. 

 

Or,

 

Or he could end it all now. He was weak, yes, but he still had some strength left in his thin arms. He could swing the pan down, down against the back of His head, and give his father a chance to save himself. Oh, how great it would feel to watch the iron pan collide with Richard’s head, how it would sound. The noise he’d make afterward,  _ oh.  _ He’d finally feel the pain Craig felt all those years. He’d know what sort of torture Craig had been through. 

 

Craig found himself salivating at the thought. Richard never loved him. No, He was a sick, twisted man, who didn’t know what love was. Taking pictures and laughing at one’s pain is  _ not  _ love. Love…. Love is… love is Tweek. Love is the warmth Craig felt when his skin came in contact with the tall blonde’s. Love is looking into those eyes, so bright it was like looking into the sun. Love was how to two seemed to endlessly chase each other, always craving more of the other, never getting enough. 

 

It was at that moment, Craig realized, he was in love with Tweek Tweak. He was in love, and there was nothing he could do about it. 

 

Dark indigo eyes directed beside him, and shared eye contact with bright green ones. The two stared at each other, ones filled with panic and the others were emotionless. 

 

But Tweek knew better than that. Craig’s eyes may have seemed blank to anyone else. But he wasn't just anyone else. He was Tweek Tweak, and behind the deep shade of indigo, Tweek saw  _ fear.  _ Pure, panicked terror. Craig was terrified. Tweek, though, gave a nod to his head, telling Craig that it was okay.

 

_ It’s okay. _

 

_ You’re okay. _

 

_ I’m okay. _

 

The sound of metal colliding with skin filled the room. One loud bang soon turned into another. And another, and another. Time and time again, Craig brought the pan down, swinging relentlessly against His attacker’s head. RIchard sputtered in pain, but wasn’t given a chance to breathe before the hard cold metal crashed into his face again. 

 

He was on the carpet now, being rolled off of Thomas and was now being beaten brutally by the one kid who had seemed so terrified and submissive before. His own precious, little Craig was proving he was much stronger than he had let on because very quickly, Richard’s mouth was filling with blood. 

 

Craig almost killed him. Almost. A large, but not rough, hand rested on his shoulder, and he flinched. Turning, he saw his… his dad, looking at him, badly beaten, but there  _ looking at him  _ nonetheless. 

 

He was pulled away from an unconscious Richard. Tricia had a broken nose, but she insisted she was okay. Tweek was cut from his bonds, and immediately embraced Craig. The two couldn’t seem to seperate. Their hands intertwined, foreheads rested against each other and both were soon in tears. 

 

The loud noise of sirens could be heard from outside, but they didn’t care. They just held on tighter. 

 

_ FInally, Craig was reunited with his light. The sun and the moon rejoiced together to form a perfect balance. They were no longer separate, and together they completed each other.  _

 

_ - _

 

Tweek’s father was facing practically a life sentence in jail. The old album had been more than enough proof, especially since Richard had been stupid enough to show his face in one of the pictures. Obviously, Mrs. Tweak was disgusted, but admitted she knew for about a month or two before Richard had gone off to jail the first time. That explained why she had helped Craig that day. She immediately filed for a divorce. Richard would not be seeing the light of day for a long,  _ long  _ time. 

 

Tweek would be living with his mother, obviously, but moved out from his old room due to knowing what it had been used for years prior. He took his fathe- no,  _ Richard’s  _ place at the coffee shop, and proved to be quite the baker. Although coffee was almost always surrounding him, he was never tempted to drink it again. He was worried if he took one sip he’d be addicted once more the way he had been when he was younger. 

 

Tricia and Thomas became quite popular in South Park. They were now known as ‘local heroes’, even if it wasn’t technically them who stopped Richard. Mr. and Mrs. Tucker began working to fund awareness for rape victims, and their small but ever growing company created quite the buzz. Tricia also became enrolled into boxing classes. She realized, after her fight with Richard, that she liked punching people, and wanted to become a police officer when she got older. Officer Yates was particularly pleased with this, especially after hearing how she had come to her brother’s rescue. 

 

Speaking of which, Craig had never felt better. The school had an assembly which officially apologized to him, and there were a few speeches held by over dramatic girls. Some even went as far as to start crying during their’s even though Craig had never talked to them once in his life.

 

His parents had cried in shame when he got home from Tweek’s house the day Richard was sent off. For the next month, all Craig would hear was their apologies and constant feelings of guilt. They bought him a larger cage for Stripe, a nicer bed, basically redid his room and went shopping for new clothes so he could finally stop wearing his old ones that had been worn out after years of use. 

 

Tweek made him a new chullo. It may have been almost identical to this old one, but it was newer and obviously well made. Craig cried when he saw it, actually. 

 

The two were never anywhere without the other. Although Tweek moved out from his old room, he never used his new one since he was almost always sleeping in Craig’s bed with him. Or, at least, in his room. The two never slept in the same bed until about a year after everything happened. Tweek had been sleeping on the ground, as usual, beside Craig’s bed.

 

“T-Tweek?” Craig’s soft voice cut through the silent night. Tweek could hear the soft scuffle of sheets from the mattress.

 

“Yeah?” He murmured, green eyes opening, even though he wasn’t near tired enough to actually sleep.

 

“D-do… do you wanna, um.” Tweek could practically see Craig’s cute blush he wore when he became flustered. “Do you maybe wanna come up here? W-with me?”

 

“Really?” Tweek said, legitimately surprised. He never really thought of sleeping beside Craig, no matter how amazing that thought sounded. Craig’s small head peaked from the side of the bed at the two locked eyes. The raven haired boy nodded, and that was all Tweek needed to bolt up into the bed beside the other. “This okay?” He whispered, giving Craig enough distance in case he was uncomfortable. To Tweek’s shock, Craig shook his head no. Tweek raised an eyebrow, confused, until Craig pulled the other closer, close enough for their bodies to touch. The smaller boy lay his head against Tweek’s sturdy chest, finally sagging against his body. 

 

“Perfect.” He whispered, making Tweek chuckle, and place a gentle hand against the back of Craig’s neck and playing with the short hair that grew there. 

 

Tweek couldn't help but agree. Everything really was perfect. Once Craig’s breaths evened out and he went slack against Tweek’s side, Tweek moved his hand to his and intertwined their fingers once more. No matter how simple the act, it was now their special gesture they shared, something to ground the both of them. Although Craig was asleep, Tweek gave a soft squeeze to his thin hands. He almost cried when he felt a weak, but there, squeeze back. 

 

The sun and the moon found each other. A feat which had seemed impossible all those years ago, had been done. Tweek was Craig’s light, and Craig was Tweek’s calm. The duo couldn’t be more perfect for one another. 

  
**Everything was _perfect._**

**Author's Note:**

> I also lOVE comments so feel free to leave one !!
> 
> FInd me on tumblr; @/Ham-is-gr8 to pester me about sp !!
> 
> thanks for reading, I really appreciate it!


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